That Which We Call A Rose
by It's-A-Passion
Summary: Evelyn is tasked by the Lady of the Lake to change the fate of Camelot. Perhaps seduce Lancelot away from Guinevere and change the course of events leading to Arthur's death. But then she meets the obnoxious prat herself and suddenly isn't so sure she wants to save him. But it seems Evelyn is the one being seduced – by the self-righteous, fair prince with caring eyes. ArthurOC.
1. The Lady Of The Lake

_Prologue: The Lady of the Lake _

_The Lay of the Lake went by many names. The Lady of Avalon. Viviane. Nivian. Nyneve. Evienne. Elaine._

_But she preferred Freya. It was what her beloved knew her as. It was her name. Before._

_Her eyes followed the body of the mighty, fallen warrior as he floated upon the waters, having been sent on his way just moments before by Merlin. Merlin. She sighed slightly, a soft, sad smile lifting the corners of her mouth at the thought of him. She missed him, his gentle, comforting touch, his smile, his warm embrace. She missed his dark, mused hair and she longed to run her fingers through it once again. Just once._

_But they were separated now, and her longing just grew._

_ The cool water rippled slightly as she trailed her fingers of the smooth surface. She was to bear Arthur to Avalon. Her face drew tight in a somber, pinched expression, her previous wistfulness a fleeting moment upon her mind, erased with her current task. The warrior's fate troubled her beloved, and for that reason only, she set her mind to purpose._

_ This was not how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be with him. Arthur's passing had saddened Merlin greatly, for she knew they held a close bond, and his passing weighed on him. She could see in his eyes, the looming recluse he would become on his current path. The blame he held deep in his chest. The pain. The guilt. She could see he was tired. Burdened by it._

_ She wished she could comfort him, the way he had done for her. She wished she could reach out to him and smooth the lines on his forehead, the pucker between his eyebrows, and tell him it would all be okay. But she couldn't, and she felt as though she could not save him from his fate. She feared it. Feared she would never be able to reach him through the cloud of his burden._

_And she loved him too much to let that happen._

_If only there was a way to stop it. To change his fate, his path. So they could be together._

_But to change the future, she had to go to the past._

_Then she had an idea._

_Perhaps, what Arthur needed was…well, she wasn't entirely sure what he needed. Further protection, perchance? Non-magical protection? Something to reset the balance and shift the future. Or, maybe…just maybe…_someone_. But who could she entrust such an important task with? She knew of none, and certainly none she trusted to get close to Merlin and potentially discover his secret. She had to go back, she had to search further abroad._

_She had to find someone worthy, someone good, someone who could generate change. Merlin deserved that. Arthur deserved that. Almost automatically, she decided this new person had to be a 'she'. Women were far more creative. _

_And by extension, her Merlin would be fine. They could be together._

_Spurred by her forming plans, she began moving her arms about her body, spinning in the water. Shifting the waters of time and going back…going back…going back. To before. And further. She slowed her movements, closed her eyes and waited. A small tingling in her stomach told her that this was the right time to be at._

_She pushed herself up, floating almost, and broke through the surface in a spray of droplets shining in the sun, glittering like jewels. She blinked the water out of her wide eyes, glancing around. The lake looked exactly the same. Slowly, she swiped at the water surface, as if wiping it clean. The water settled, becoming still and unmoving; no ripples, no current flow, just still water. Then, the water began swirling around her, getting faster and faster until, an image appeared in front of her, fragments and colours swirling in the water's depths before coming together. It appeared as if the water surface had crystallized in front of her, like one round, smooth diamond._

_In front of her, she saw a woman, in elegant clothing, the fabrics intricately sewn together. Clothing befitting her obvious status. The girl was smiling at her reflection, twisting her hair around a finger. Freya felt nothing, and with a flick of her wrist, another image appeared. Another woman, more beautiful dresses. This woman was a brunette. Nothing. She flicked her wrist and another woman appeared. Nothing. More flicks, more nothing._

_None of these women were right. She felt nothing at their images, no stirrings of…rightness. Slowly, the women she saw were further and further away from Camelot. Hours passed and she sighed, flicking her wrist almost before their images formed properly._

_And then she saw something that made her pause, her hand hovering over the image._

_A young woman trudged through a dense forest, not following any path but seeming to know where she was going, a content expression on her face. There was something about this girl…something she couldn't quite put her finger on. In an effort to discover what it was, she watched closer, leaning forward._

_The girl easily jumped up onto a fallen tree trunk, half her height, before balancing along it, and jumping back down on the other side. The forest became denser still, fern fronds scraping along her clothes. Only then, did Freya actually notice the game in her hand; small, furry animals tethered together with some string in one hand, the other hand gripping what appeared to be a homemade bow. A quiver of arrows was strung across her back. Her clothes were worn. There were no light fabrics, no gold embroidery, no jewels, no silky garments. Grey fur pelts covered her shoulders, brown trousers encased her legs, and an oversized, long sleeved shirt made of rough wool was pinned at her tiny waist by a leather belt that held two small daggers and a sword. The blades of those weapons were chipped and of poor quality. But they were well sharpened. Holed boots silently meet damp, moist black soil._

_Callouses covered her fingers. Her arms and legs were well muscled despite her petite frame. Her skin was a silvery, ivory colour; unused to the sun's rays. For a moment, Freya wondered if she lived in that dense forest. But surely not…? Aside from her pale skin, her features were raven dark. Her hair was long, unusually long, and wildly curling. Untamable. It was slightly mused, as if she had woken up and neglected to brush it, however, the sides were pinned back loosely to keep the shorter strands from falling in her face. It tumbled over her shoulders and down her back to the small of her back in glossy, midnight black tresses. Her eyes were a dark, deep green; like true emeralds – the purer the stone, the darker the colour, and her eyes were so dark they bordered on a black-green. Those round eyes were framed by delicate, long, dark lashes. Her lips, slightly chapped, were a crimson not dissimilar to the colour of blood._

_As Freya contemplated her, the girl paused, and glanced around. Her lips pulled up into a smile, and she crouched in her spot, shuffling close to a nearby towering fern. Just on the other side of that fern, there was movement as branches were pushed aside. Two men, with youthful faces, perhaps a few years older than the girl, pushed past. Their lips were moving in good natured conversation._

_The girl's eyes followed them a moment, scanning them, analyzing them, before she burst forth, her pert mouth opened in a yell of attack that Freya could not hear. She pounced on the taller of the men, attaching to his back and wrapping her small hands around his eyes. The man lost his balance and stumbled, and the girl flew to the other man, tackling him. They rolled about in a heap, their mouths smiling, their bodies quaking in laughter. The taller man said something, and the girl laughed a reply._

_Freya realized she was watching the exchange in silence, and with a single click of her fingers, sound suddenly popped around her, filling the wide space with laughter._

_The taller man had waves of chestnut hair, his shoulders broad as if used to heavy lifting and manual labour. His nose was crooked slightly to the left, and his eyes were the same hue as his hair. A scar marred his face, running along his right cheekbone in a smooth slash. He reached down and pulled the girl to her feet in one swoop, his large hand encompassing her much smaller one._

_The other man lay for a second longer on the grass, looking up at the girl as a stray ray of sunshine filtered through the overhead canopy and landed on the top of her hair, throwing a rainbow sheen over it. A small smile tugged at his lips in a lopsided grin. His brown hair was a few shads darker than his companion's, and his eyes were a dazzling blue. His frame, when he pulled himself to his feet, was slightly lanky. He was not as muscled, however, his hands, back and thighs all bore the markers of hard work._

"_Next time, you shouldn't sound your attack, Evie," the taller man smiled at her._

_The girl – Evie, rolled her eyes, "I still surprised you."_

"_And all the birds," the lanky man said. His grin was lopsided. The trio continued along. "Though I suppose you didn't need to hunt anymore – you've already caught your share!" He didn't sound surprised, in fact, he sounded resigned, holding up his own catch. He handed over a small coin to the other man, who laughed heartily._

"_Why do you bet against her?" He shook his head, "She is the best hunter we have."_

"_No," she disagreed, "I just have more patience than you two twits."_

_As they loped along at a steady pace, they continued their teasing banter, falling into the easy familiarity of their friendship._

_And then Freya felt it; the certainty in her bones. This was the girl. This was the girl for the task._

_But…_

_She had not considered a woman of lower status. She had just been concerned with women to catch Arthur's attention, to integrate into Camelot, and thus his life far easier. Through a simple twist of fate, this girl had come into view, a peasant, who she knew with all faith, was who she needed._

_She needed someone strong. Someone good. Someone with a light heart, open and playful. Someone just and truthful, fierce and powerful in her own right._

_And perhaps…perhaps, it would not be terrible for her to be pretty. At first, she was unsure, for what if she caught Merlin's eye? But then a different thought occurred to her. She was pretty, beautiful really, enough to attract a little attention. Lancelot's attention. For Guinevere's heart could never entirely belong to Arthur. A small space would always be reserved for Lancelot. And to diffuse any such attentions between Guinevere and Lancelot would certainly cause change._

_Change enough to give her her Merlin._

_For the rest of the day, Freya watched the girl, learning about her. She discovered that her tall friend was called Bradyn, while the other was named Garret. They continued through the forest and came to the edge where a small village laid. She lived with Bradyn and his mother, for her own parents had passed many years before. The elder, wise woman of the village who hobbled slightly, called her by her full name, Evelyn, however, she did not like it, preferring instead her shortened name of affection. They hunted in the forests and the members of the village all helped each other out._

_That night, when she lay down on her straw mattress beside Bradyn, and drifted to sleep, Freya visited her dreams._

_Much like water travelling through time, dream visiting was something she'd never tried. But they were among her powers she'd been granted upon her acceptance of her role of Lady of the Lake, rather than passing through the veil. Perhaps, her decision had been made in haste; too anxious was she, to remain with Merlin that she had not considered the consequences. She would never age; instead, she was bound to that lake for all eternity. She ferried souls to Avalon. She watched, never meddling._

_But this, she had to be involved in. It was her Merlin, after all. She chose this for him._

_A pearly white mist surrounded her in a shroud so that she could not see anything, could not tell if there was anything in front of her, or not, or if she was alone._

_Slowly, the mist went away. In front of her stood Evie, glancing around in slight confusion, but accepting it easily. She knew she was dreaming. When she spotted her, she frowned._

"_I am Freya," she said, by introduction. "Lady of the Lake."_

_For a moment, Evie just looked at her. "This is an odd sort of dream."_

"_This is not a dream. I am real."_

"_You're real?"_

"_Very."_

"_Am I real?" she asked, suddenly less sure than a moment ago._

"_Do you feel real?" Freya frowned._

_She glanced down at herself, finding everything in its right place. She punched her arm, pursed her lips as she registered the pain, before rubbing over that spot, "Yes."_

"_Then you are real."_

_They looked at each other. Silence elapsed. Freya did not know where to start._

"_Why are you in my dreams?"_

"_This isn't a dream," Freya reminded her, but nevertheless, glossed over her misunderstanding. "I have…a very important task. I need…well, it's all very complicated."_

"_Right," Evie nodded slowly, "But what does this have to do with me?"_

"_I have need of your help."_

"_Help?" the girl quizzed._

_Freya sighed. "Yes, yes, your assistance, your aid, your service," she fluttered her fingers about in gesture. Freya was beginning to doubt the intelligence of this girl. Perhaps, fate had been wrong._

_Evie scowled at her, folding her arms over her chest and pursing her lips. "I know what it means," she snapped, baring her teeth. Strong and fierce. Maybe fate had been right. "I _meant_, why do you need _my_ help? I don't even know you."_

"_I have watched you this day, and come to the conclusion that you are best suited for my purpose," Freya said grandly, smiling in encouragement._

_Evie raised her eyebrows when she said she'd watched her today, but didn't bring it up, instead landing on the more important point, "And what purpose is that?"_

"_I need you to change the future. More specifically, the future of Camelot."_

"_Why?" she frowned incredulously._

"_Because my love is counting on me."_

_Evie stared at Freya, "This must be a dream."_

"This is not a dream_!" Freya said, exasperated._

"_I'm sorry," Evie said, holding out her hands and backing up, despite the fact that there was nothing but white expanse behind her. "But none of this is making much sense."_

_Freya ran a hand through her hair, before catching sight of the simple bracelet hanging around her slim wrist. She took it off and handed it to Evie. "Listen to what I have to say. And when you wake in the morning and find this bracelet around your wrist, know it was real."_

_Evie thought about it. "Alright." Freya clasped the bracelet around her wrist and began._

_She told her about Camelot, and the prince there, and about the man who served him, the man she loved. She spoke about how the prince was to be a great ruler, but he died too soon. How it weighs on Merlin, causing him to seek solitude and ignore others. How it was distancing him from her. And then about how it was up to her, Evie, to change what was to come in any way she could so that Arthur would not meet his end. She told her about Lancelot, and how she needed to in his heart for Arthur's sake. She told her a lot, and Evie listened patiently, nodding every now and then. When she finished, she was still nodding to herself, almost in thought._

"_So…" she started, "You want me to go to Camelot…and cause a whole lot of change?"_

_Freya nodded emphatically. _

"_You're insane," Evie replied simply. "Totally and utterly." Freya frowned, and began to ask what the problem was when Evie cut her off. "I can't just leave! I have friends, I have a life here. They need me."_

"_Camelot needs you."_

"_This is…I mean, this can't be…why me?"_

"_You are…right for this task."_

"_What if I fail?"_

"_You won't," she replied confidently._

"_But what if I do? What if I can't cause the change you need?"_

"_I believe you are right for this."_

"_What makes you think I'll do this for you?" Evie asked her, and for a moment, she was thrown. She had not considered her saying no._

"_You will be saving a man, a great ruler, and giving him a chance to make all the lands a better place. He is fair and just, and he will see to it that the world is peaceful. You will be changing the course of an entire kingdom for the better. And you will be giving me my Merlin back. You can not understand how I have longed for it."_

_Freya gazed at her heavily, willing her to understand the importance of her answer. Her actions. Evie sighed. Then nodded, "I will try."_

"_Thank you. And fear not; you will not go alone. I have someone in mind to accompany you, to stay with you through this task."_

"_Who?"_

"_Greta, your village's elder woman," Freya smiled brilliantly. _

_Evie groaned. The fog was quickly rising up again, covering them, before making them disappear from view. _

"_If you need me, just think about me before you go to sleep, and I will come to you…" Freya told her, her voice drifting off as they were surrounded by white mist._

_Freya went back to watching through the crystallised waters._

_When Evie woke in the morning and found the bracelet, she pursed her lips. Freya could tell she did not want to leave her friends. They were close and would miss each other terribly._

_The very next day, she set out for Camelot._

**So, thanks so much for reading! Please, let me know what you think!**

**Truthfully, I'm not too sure where I'm heading with this, but I thought it'd be fun :D**

**Thanks again.**


	2. Hunting

_Chapter 1: Hunting_

Three days. They had been gone three days and Greta was beginning to drive her insane.

It wasn't that it took her nearly twice as long to do anything; after all, she _was_ old and Evie could understand that. It wasn't that she seemed to bombard Evie, now that they were travelling together on an important quest, on things she used to do when she was Evie's age; some of them were interesting. It wasn't even that she seemed to have a bladder the size of a pea, or that she snored something chronic.

Oh, no, it was none of that. It was her incessant need to call Evie by her full name. Evelyn. And her stubborn ignorance to her wishes to be called _Evie, not Evelyn_. She'd lost count of the number of times she's emphasized and corrected the older woman, but to no avail. Greta was stubbornly set on calling her Evelyn.

And there was only so much Evie could take.

She came across a small trickling stream, and jumped it in one bound, her feet landing silently on the damp leaves and grass on the other side. An arrow was strung loosely as she paused, listening. The times when she got to hunt were a welcome change; a chance to get away from Greta for a couple hours.

She took a deep breath in through her nose, holding it, before letting it out quietly. The thing she loved most about hunting was the quiet; the world seemed so peaceful when it was just her, tracking a stag, or her nimble fingers threading a snare. That, and she loved how it let her escape from her troubling thoughts; everything that was on her mind that she didn't want to think on would all disappear as she concentrated on the hunt. Hunting required stealth, precision, focus. She had to know where to tread so as not to make a noise and startle her prey. She had to be able to read and read correctly the signs left on the earth by passing animals. She had to concentrate on where she aimed her arrows.

But it seemed this time it was not helping. She was distracted and she sighed, trying to pull her mind to her current task. At this rate, she'd be hunting long past midday. But she could not seem to stay in the present. Her mind kept jumping back to her goodbyes.

.

_She pursed her lips, before biting them, her eyebrows draw down in a troubled expression as she kneaded soft dough beside Bradyn's mother, Ada. She knew she had to speak to her boys, for they were _her_ boys. Her best friends, who she'd known since she was born, who she'd grown up with and shared everything with._

_For a moment, she almost considered staying. She considered telling Freya that she changed her mind, that she couldn't leave. That they needed her here, the village needed her._

_But she'd already agreed, and Evie was not one to go back on her word. Her word was her oath._

_She finished up helping Ada, before running out of the small, thatched building, without so much as an explanation. She knew where they'd be; plowing the fields. Children ran about, laughing, boys shoving at each other, girls skipping and singing. A small girl, Rose, caught up to her and grabbed her hand, a basket of flowers in the other, and she begged Evie to thread them into her hair. She couldn't say no, despite her need to see her friends. More girls came over, and Evie spent most of the afternoon plaiting hair, weaving flowers and listening to giggles and childish laughter. It didn't bother her too much; she liked the children of her village, and it also kept her from the difficult task of explaining._

_A few of the women asked her to fetch water for them, and she spent a few minutes talking with Ray, the old man, older than Greta, about his chicken feed, and whether she thought the chickens seemed to like it. She collected some eggs, rounded up some stray children and helped cart some of the seeds from one storage cellar to another._

_Evie found it difficult to say no, especially when she really just didn't mind saying yes._

_But she was anxious as she finally made it to the fields. She hurried to them and when they turned to her, she stopped. She didn't give them her usual greeting; a punch in the arm. They were boys, and they were rough, and she'd always felt that to keep up with them, she had to be equally rough. Even as it was, they were gentler with her than she'd like, but they were so much bigger than her._

_Garret frowned at her, "What's wrong?"_

"_What makes you think there's anything wrong?" She asked in a higher than she'd like voice, the words spilling out too quickly for her to stop them. They sounded false to her. They sounded like she was avoiding something. Which she was._

"_Now we know there definitely is something wrong," Bradyn told her, shoving her shoulder lightly with his own. She stumbled slightly. _

_She sighed and bit her lip. "I…I'm leaving."_

"_On a hunting trip?" Garret asked, though his voice held an undercurrent of suspicion, like he suspected that that was not the reason for her words._

_She hated to shake her head and prove that suspicion to hold true. "I'm going to Camelot."_

"_Camelot!" They asked at the same time in incredulousness. "Why?" Garret added._

"_I just…I have to do this. Do you understand?" she asked hesitantly._

_They stared at her, dumbstruck. "You joke…?" Bradyn asked, though he didn't sound so sure of it. She shook her head, her dark, seaweed green eyes tremendously sad. Realization dawned on their faces, and Garret's face warmed into a pink, then red shade._

"_No!" Garret shouted, his face turning a deeper red colour in his anger. "Why? Why now? Why do you have to do this? Why do you have to leave us?"_

"_I…" she faltered. She knew better than to tell them that the Lady of the Lake had visited her in her dreams and tasked her with it. They would not believe her. They would think she was crazy. _She_ almost thought she was crazy. She did not expect them to be okay with it anyway. They'd been through so much together, and seemingly out of nowhere she wanted to leave them. Her eyes stung. She swallowed reflexively. They were making this so hard. "I…"_

_And then, completely catching her off guard, Bradyn stepped towards her and wrapped his large arms around her small, trembling frame. She clutched at his shirt, traitor tears leaking out of her eyes. She was not one to cry. She was tougher than that. But right now she was blubbering like a baby. She breathed in his familiar scent. Like morning dew and cut grass and the earthy, overturned dirt. "There's nothing for you here, anyway. You were always meant to go further than any of us."_

_She choked on a sob, a strangled sound, and she just cried harder, his words forcing the tears from her eyes. _

"_We're here!" Garret shouted, his fists balling. "_We're here!_"_

"_Garret," Bradyn said, over her head. "Don't."_

_There was a tense silence, and she heard him exhale loudly and forcefully. It was a sound of defeat. She'd heard it many times, when he was resigning himself to something. Garret could be quick to anger, but just as quick to let go of that anger. Bradyn was not easily angered, but when he was, he held a grudge for a long time. "Come here."_

_She obliged easily, letting go of Bradyn and going to Garret. He wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace. They stayed like that a while, and she committed him to memory, so that when she felt so incredibly alone, as she undoubtedly would feel, she could remember this moment. Their embrace. She would remember how her fingers met around his waist easier than when she hugged Bradyn, how she could hear his heartbeat under his shirt and skin. How warm he was. How gentle. "We're just…going to miss you so much."_

_She pulled back then and sniffed. If she didn't let go then, she would never be able to. She swiped at her eyes, hoping they wouldn't notice her tears. This was so hard for her. It was the hardest thing she'd ever done. "Once I get there, I'll send word, and you can both come to stay with me for a while. For as long as you like! I promise."_

"_We'll hold you to that," Bradyn grinned at her._

"_When do you leave?" Garret asked._

"_Tomorrow. First light."_

"_We'll be there," he said._

"_Thank you."_

_She left to inform the rest of the village of her departure. They received the news with shock and sadness; she would miss every one of them. Rosie sniffled tearfully and asked who would braid flowers into her hair. She ran into Greta, who told her about Freya visiting her dreams as well, and that she would be ready to leave when she was. That night, she barely got any sleep. Her eyes threatened tears at every toss and turn. When she rose, she rose with the sun, grabbing her small bag that held her only possessions; a change of clothing, a few coins, some bread Ada had given her for the journey, and a simple ivory comb that had belonged to her mother._

_Garret was waiting outside when her and Bradyn emerged, leaning his lanky form against the low built fence surrounding Ada's chickens._

_The final goodbye had been harder than before, and as she walked away with Greta, she didn't bother trying to hold back the tears._

_Everything was going to change for her. Everything would be different._

_But she supposed that was the whole point._

_._

Her chest clenched, restricting her breathing and she stumbled slightly, bracing her hand against the closest tree trunk. The rough bark scratched her palm, and her arrow pointed at the dirt. She missed Garret and Bradyn; missed how they would laugh and tease, and hunt together in silence, an easy camaraderie. She missed them deeply, and it cut at her heart. Why did she agree to this insane task, this impossible quest? How could Freya just ask her to give up her life, like that, and take this up? Just travel days to get to Camelot, before finding a place they could afford to live in, before somehow integrating herself into life there, to get to know Merlin and Arthur and change fate. People didn't just befriend princes. Especially peasants. The lower class.

It was impossible.

Why did she agree to this?

But she sighed. She knew the answer; as soon as Freya had mentioned that it would save a man's life, a man who would make peace through the kingdoms, she knew she wouldn't be able to say no. Her heart went out to this unknown prince who would one day be such a great ruler. And if this was her destiny, then…she would never escape it. It didn't mean she couldn't second guess and question it though.

When they ran low on food, she hunted for the morning, to replenish their meat supply; she'd set traps and take her bow and arrows out. This morning, she had woken up and almost cried again. It had irritated her, made her feel vulnerable, and not at all like her usual self; but she'd had a dream about them again before she woke, and it just renewed her longing to see them again. She'd decided then that she needed to get her mind off them, and went to hunt. Greta did not question her, or attempt to change her mind, just letting her do what she needed to do.

Hunting was familiar. She was good at it, though she'd had plenty of practice. Bradyn had said she was the best hunter they had, though it wasn't strictly true. She had good aim, though certainly not perfect precision, and she had more patience than Bradyn and Garret to set traps; they would grow irritated quickly and choose instead to use arrows. Other men in their village had patience though, and many years more experience. So no, Evie wasn't their best hunter; she was just the best hunter out of their small trio.

To her left, she heard the slightest shifting of plants. She drew the string of her bow tight and took aim, silent as the grave. A rabbit shuffled into view, it's nose twitching, whiskers quivering. She felt bad about what she was going to do, but this was about survival. She killed only what she needed to eat. She let loose an arrow.

Evie would catch the animals, then skin them and remove their entrails, and Greta would cook the meat over a small fire that had taken her most of the morning to erect.

She picked up the lifeless animal, removing the arrow and staring at it sadly. She had hit its eye. It died quickly, without suffering. She lifted it up and went to check the snares she'd set up earlier that morning. Of the three traps she'd set, only one had a catch; another rabbit. She made her way back to where her and Greta had camped for the night.

Evie dropped the two rabbits she'd caught in front of the fire, before sitting down and grabbing her small knives. She set to skinning the animals while Greta encouraged the fire to grow bigger. "This should be enough for a couple days."

The old woman nodded slowly, before looking at her, "When I was your age, I never would have thought about hunting. That was a job for the men."

Evie shrugged. She did not say it in a mean or rude way, just as a statement of fact; she made the comparisons as a way to converse and show the differences in her time and Evie's. "I find it…relaxing, to think of nothing but the hunt."

Greta wore a simple dress, made of rough wool that tightened at her waist with a strip of material. In comparison, Evie wore trousers and a too-large tunic tightened at her waist by a belt that held her two hunting knives and her sword. She had brought the sword along only because they would be travelling along unsafe roads; she did not wish to make a victim of herself or to be unprepared. When they reached Camelot, she would hide it; it was uncommon at best for a woman to carry a sword, and she did not wish to draw attention to herself.

The old woman nodded again. When the meat was cooked, Evie discarded the entrails, finding her way back to the small stream to clean her knives and refill her leather skin pouch.

With Greta, they travelled slowly, following her directions, as she claimed to know the way but refused to tell Evie. Perhaps she feared Evie would take off and leave her to fend for herself. It _was_ tempting. Maybe, if she called her Evelyn one more time…But, no, she could never do that to the old woman. She had known Greta her whole life, almost, and despite her vaguely irritating ways, she did not wish to be rid of her company. She was a comfort, albeit, one that liked to talk. A link to her past. She was a reminder of who she was.

They packed up their few belongs. Greta had brought her horse, Bea, with them. Bea was perhaps as old as Greta, and so would not be missed from the village. They would attach their few belongings to her, and Greta would ride the wizened horse. Evie would walk. They made slow progress. Often, in the middle of the day, when Evie felt most irritated by that fact, she would grumble that the horse moved slower than Greta herself.

The horse nickered softly as Evie came near where she was tethered to a low hanging branch, moving her nose towards her free hand. She was both snuffling for treats and seeking a pat. Evie sighed; the horse may be old, but she was affectionate. Greta had had Bea since she was young, from before she came to the village; Greta had married a poor farmer who she loved and thus moved to their village. Bea's coat was dusty from their travels, so what used to be a glossy chestnut shine was now the muted colour of dry dirt. Her tail flicked as Evie attached their bags to her saddle.

With the fire kicked out, Evie helped Greta onto her horse and they set out. The sun was hovering at its apex in the sky. The further south they moved, the more sun she was subjected to; it was more than she was used to, and at first it disorientated her. Now, she found she liked it; it was warm and felt nice against her skin.

Like embraces from her friends. But it wasn't as comforting.

They continued along. Mostly, they travelled through forests and woods. Occasionally, the wooded area would come to an end, and they would come across a road that would lead through some towns and villages. The towns and villages slowly got bigger too. It was quite overwhelming, to walk into one and not be able to see open pace anywhere.

They travelled on until fading light, following a small trail that led through the forests. She wondered how much longer it would take to get to Camelot.

**Hey guys,**

**So, let me know what you think! I'm really looking forward to continuing this, and I hope you guys are looking forward to reading it. If so, I'd really like it if you could review.**

**Here's a little teaser: the next chapter is called 'Obnoxious'.**

**Here's another: Arthur comes into it. Yay!**

**Anyway, I hope you liked it!**

**I put review replies at the end, so here they are:**

**LadyLionhart: **Wow, thank you so much! I'm really glad I managed to draw you in, and thank you! I'm glad you thought it was well written! Haha, yeah, I don't think I've read anything like it, so hopefully people will find it interesting, and it'll keep you interested! I'm so pleased you're interested in seeing where I take it! And thanks so much, first off, for being my very first reviewer for this story, and secondly, for taking the time to review it in the first place! It means a lot to me!

**DancerOfDanger: **Hey stranger :D You're too sweet! Thanks for reviewing this, it means a lot to me, and seriously? You felt like you were watching it?! Thank you so much, I'm glad it was so aesthetic that you felt like you could see it!

**JohnCenaRkoFanForever: **Hi, thanks so much for reviewing this! It means so much to me! And I'm so pleased you liked it and seem to be interested in reading more! Hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter, too! Thanks so much!

**Livvy10253: **Thank you so much! I'm glad you thought it was great and that it seems to be an interesting plot idea!Hopefully I can maintain your interest! Thanks so much fortaking the time to review – it means a lot to me! Hopefully, you liked this chapter too!


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